


Grant Me Relief

by Triss_Hawkeye



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, so spoilers for that obviously, the verbal manifestation of the emotional hangover I had after ep147
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triss_Hawkeye/pseuds/Triss_Hawkeye
Summary: Azu looks for Hamid.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Azu
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	Grant Me Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I am so full of feelings about these two that I could EXPLODE

Battered and exhausted, Azu still stood, knees weak but upright—for now. She didn’t know if she could take another blow. She stared defiantly up at the living machine before her, determined that it would have to carve through her before it got to lay a hand on any of the others. It was all she had left to give and she didn’t know if it would be enough, but she would give it whole-heartedly. She had endured the dark and water to confront the evil thing she faced, smashed and shattered by her axe but still swinging, and it would not take from her anything less than her best before it took her down. She stared up at it, and braced for impact.

And then there came a furious roar to her side, alien and yet heartburstingly familiar, and everything was flame, and the heat and light were scorching and devastating and blessed salvation. Dazed and overwhelmed, she almost had to stagger backwards, but she stood firm before the inferno, watching the metal hulk turn to slag before her eyes.

Behind and above her, she could hear Cel and Zolf making short work of the remaining oozes, and Skraak giving some sort of exclamation from the walkway. She rested a hand to her forehead, saying a quick prayer to Aphrodite of thanksgiving and healing. As the pain and disorientation receded under the favour of her goddess, she looked around herself urgently.

“Hamid?” she called. “Hamid, I can’t see you, where are you?”

“Here, I’m here!” his voice came from somewhere to her left, hoarse and ragged from relief. “Azu, I’m here.” She felt his hands tap against the armour at her waist, giving her enough of a bearing to spin, kneel, and scoop him into her arms in almost a single motion, desperately clutching the still-invisible halfling to herself. She felt him bury his head against her shoulder and she did the same, feeling his hair against her cheek and his hands around her sides even though she couldn’t see them, heat still radiating from his tiny body. Azu closed her eyes tight and held him fast against her, as if to reassure herself that he was really there.

“Hamid,” she said, “Oh, Hamid,” struggling to find words that weren’t his name, in love and joy and relief, “Hamid, that was—you were—”

“Azu, Azu, I’m so glad you’re all right,” he babbled at the same time, “you were _incredible_ —”

“—the fire, I couldn’t believe it—”

“—so strong, Azu, it was _amazing_ —”

“—I love you, Hamid, so much, and I’m not letting go of you until I can see you.”

Azu felt Hamid’s grip around her tighten for a second, and together they exchanged several shaky breaths in speechless quiet, before Hamid spoke again.

“Then you should open your eyes now, Azu.”

She did, leaning back on her heels to let him face her as he faded back into view, and almost forgot to breathe in exhilaration. Hamid’s skin was burnished brass, his eyes wide and shot with fiery gold, and his mouth half-open in an enraptured expression that mirrored what she felt to look upon him. 

“Hamid, you’re beautiful,” she said in a whispered gasp, unable to stop herself.

Hamid gave the tight smile of unsuccessfully holding back tears, which steamed off the skin at the corners of his eyes in faint puffs. He held her cheeks between his hands, his skin dry and impossibly hot to the touch. “Azu I… I love you too, I was so scared and furious at the thought of losing you—of any of you—but _you_ , Azu—it was too much to hold inside me—even now I feel so much I think I might _explode_ and don’t even know how to put it into words—”

“Hamid, you don’t have to,” Azu said, and leaned in towards him. 

He met her lips with a desperate fierceness, pulling her close with as much force as his still-clawed fingers would permit without harm, and she did the same, pouring every ounce of her passion and devotion into the kiss, clumsy and messy and scalding and oh so good. The thrill of his mouth like a furnace against her own raced through her, burning away at least for a moment all of her stress and anxiety, lost in a dizzying, scorching rush. When she pulled back, it was with a deep sigh of relief, resting her forehead against his, feeling it gradually cool back to body temperature.

Off to the side, she could hear the sound of Zolf touching down, the patter of Skraak’s feet hitting the floor beside him a moment afterwards, the ungainly flap from Cel as they landed in a barely controlled heap.

“We should probably take stock and use a few potions at this point,” said Zolf. “But, uhm, take yer time,” he added gruffly, in Azu and Hamid’s direction.

Hamid chuckled and kept his head pressed against hers, hands resting firmly around her neck. Azu smiled and did the same, stroking her fingers through his hair. They would take all the time they wanted.


End file.
